


Futility

by GreenOnyx



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/F, Witch tears, sad girl on the floor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 14:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12278565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenOnyx/pseuds/GreenOnyx
Summary: Hecate is in crisis after finally spending a night with Ada the night before the events of The Great Wizard's Visit. Story takes place after Ada(Agatha) tells her to see to the bat problem in the west turret.





	Futility

She thought about the night before when Ada was in her mouth, making such grateful noises. She remembered the way Ada held her, the way she kissed her brow and called her "my girl at last". Her mind reeled. What went wrong? What had she done that had made her act like this? Had she been a disappointment to Ada? Then she had a thought that made the bottom drop out of her stomach and a chill clasp her spine: what if she hadn't been with Ada? Had it somehow been Agatha who knocked on her door in the middle of the night? Had it been Agatha in her bed?

The idea nearly made her cry on the spot. It was too cruel to bear. Was it all some twisted joke? Had Agatha actually managed to deceive her? Had Agatha made her believe she had finally achieved her dearest dream only to make her look the fool? Hecate transferred herself to her room immediately. She fell to her knees and breathed in a sharp breath that came back out as a sob. She clasped her hand to her mouth. And let her tears fall silently. It couldn't be that. It was too horrible to imagine. She knew that if it had been Agatha, she could count on Agatha to use it against her. She imagined Agatha gloating, waving this humiliation in front of Ada, showing her that her Deputy Head, her right hand was so easily manipulated. Telling her how she had done it-Hecate would die of the shame.

A sudden memory played in her mind: Ada smiling at her from the pillow they shared last night. She knew it couldn't be-she knew. She had looked into Ada's eyes from no further away than the end of her nose and she had heard her voice whispered directly into her own ear. She knew her Ada and no one, not even Agatha-especially not Agatha-could deceive her from that close. Agatha whose manner was so crude, Agatha whose eyes were hard and hollow. No. It hadn't been. She felt the icy restraints on her spine loosen their grip. No it couldn't have been. The memory of the love in Ada's eyes last night was enough to help reassure her for now, but she knew when the uncertainty struck again she could not go on like this.

This doubt would fester into something poisonous if it were allowed to remain. It was growing increasingly urgent that she speak with Ada. She knew she couldn't yet however. She had every faith in Mildred Hubble to ruin the broomstick display in a unique and extravagant way. Ada would lose her position and when she did Hecate's feelings would likely be the least of her worries. She could not let things remain as they were, she could not let Agatha replace Ada. But she could not get to Ada.

She could not get to Ada. It was as simple as that. Ada wouldn't let her. She had looked at Hecate as if she were no more important to her than Miss Gullet was. She had heard Hecate's defense of her and thought it to be too much. Perhaps she had been wrong. Perhaps all these years she had been so blinded by her love for Ada that she had failed to see something cold-hearted in her nature-something that was so obvious in Agatha, but hidden behind Ada's patience and her damned cardigans. Perhaps Hecate had convinced herself that Ada could love her when all Ada had been amenable to was one night of passion. Perhaps she had simply wanted it so badly that she willed herself to see it when it was never there.

More tears fell from her eyes. She was on her knees on the stone floor, one hand clutching her ribs, trying to manage the pain. Her lungs felt filled with water. Her heart felt as though with each beat it might seize up and never move again. She sat and listened to her own breath. Then she felt the name come up like sick, she couldn't hold it down, her mouth opened and let loose a horrible sound-a desperate and broken sound "Ada".

She remained on the floor for she didn't know how long. Her legs had grown cold, her knees stiff. She had stopped crying. She felt so foolish. She was still such a stupid silly girl after all these years. Ada had meant more to her than she could say for nearly as long as she could remember. But that could be over now. She could let it. All she ever needed to let go of anything was enough hurt. And here on the floor in her private room she had hurt. She was alright. She wasn't really. She was a passable charade of alright. She would be. She had been alone forever and now she knew that alone she would remain. She never needed to hurt like this again. She stood herself up straight, waved the dust off her dress, the tears from her face. All that remained was the tightness in her chest. It would ease, she told herself. She would stop loving Ada, she told herself. She would leave Cackle's. There were other academies-the tightness in her heart grew. The thought of being far away from Ada, even in light of her new resolution to quit loving her, was unbearable.

She knew that she would rather be miserable with Ada than anything without her. She hated herself-loathed herself for it and it showed on her face. But that didn't change it. She would never leave. She couldn't. She would stay and she would love Ada. No matter how much she wanted to want anything else, she couldn't. She would see to the bat problem in the west turret, and she would proceed to dinner and sit next to Ada and be the self that she knew best: hopelessly, uselessly in love with Ada Cackle, and completely silent on the subject.


End file.
